


Brendon Urie, Porn Ninja

by mercurybard



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Come Marking, Crack, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurybard/pseuds/mercurybard
Summary: Brendon Urie...and coffee tables





	Brendon Urie, Porn Ninja

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shutyourface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutyourface/gifts), [fiddleyoumust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/gifts).



Brendon does not understand where Ryan got a pink fly swatter. Pink. Fly swatter. Nor does he really understand why Ryan greets him at the door by smacking him right on the nose with it. It stings a bit, and he yelps, covering his poor little nose with one hand. "Hey! Not sanitary!"

"Neither's coming on peoples' coffee tables," Ryan snaps, shaking the fly swatter warningly in Brendon's direction. "I heard what you did to Spencer's and Jon's and I *saw* you come on Brent's years ago."

"You watched me jerk off on Brent's coffee table?" Brendon's smile is devilish.

Ryan swats him again, this time on the top of head. "Stay away from my coffee table, Brendon Boyd Urie...or else!"

So, of course, Brendon doesn't go to sleep after he retires to his bed in the guest room, staying awake until he can hear Ryan and Keltie make their way to bed. Somebody stumbles right in front of his door and there's Keltie's little high-pitched giggle.

Then he waits, twitching slightly as the green numbers of the clock on the night stand roll by with infinite slowness. He has to wait until he's sure they're asleep. He can be patient when he wants to be (Ryan and Spencer's comments to the contrary). He can. Really.

He waits fourteen minutes before rolling out of bed and tiptoeing across the room to the door. For a minute, he listens, ear pressed up against the door, but the house is quiet. Just the soft whoosh-whoosh of the AC. 

Brendon is the epitome of stealth as he makes his way into the living room (stubbing his toe on the entertainment center, but he didn't cry out...he so didn't). He is a better porn ninja than Pete even. He...

He trips over Hobo.

The puppy whines as Brendon topples over, dragging the heels of both hands sharply over the stiff rug as he lands. He's going to have carpet burn there. Damn it. Hobo comes over and sits down right in front of his face, looking at Brendon with big, sad doggy eyes.

"Sorry, puppy," Brendon whispers, reaching up and scratching Hobo behind the ears. Ryan's little dog responds by licking his finger. "You've got to stay quiet. I'm on a stealth mission."

He climbs to his feet and unzips his fly, regarding the coffee table in front of him critically. It's a nice table, smooth and black. Ryan's even got a coffee table book about Alice in Wonderland perched on the corner. He's going to have to be careful not to damage it--otherwise, Ryan may skip the fly swatter and go straight for clawing out Brendon's eyes with his fingers. 

Brendon shudders a little but pulls out his dick anyway. Standing here, in the cool darkness of Ryan's living room about to do what he's about to do...it sends a little shiver down his spine. 

Then he realizes Hobo is watching him. The light from a streetlamp outside reflects off the puppy's eyes as he sits, tail swishing back and forth across the carpet, watching Brendon intently.

Urk. This isn't going to work. With a sigh, Brendon tucks his cock back into his pants (not bothering to zip up because this is going to happen) and scoops up the puppy. Ryan will probably not appreciate him shutting Hobo in the pantry, but Brendon just can't do this in front of such an...innocent. 

He goes back to standing over the coffee table, jacking himself leisurely, but it just doesn't feel right. Too exposed. What if Keltie comes out to get a drink of water? What if Spencer decides to randomly swing by at two o'clock in the morning? He has a key; he could get in. No, that wouldn't do, but Brendon is not going to give up on his quest to come on Ryan's coffee table!

So, he takes the coward's way out and slides underneath it. Hiding. There isn't much room to maneuver, and he keeps banging his elbow on one of the legs, but he is determined. Eventually, he comes. It spurts up a little but not nearly high enough to hit the underside of the table. Most of it lands on his shirt, his hand. "Ew." He wipes his hand on the table above him. It leaves a glistening smear across the smooth black. Dipping his hand into the mess on his shirt, he smears some more. Sketches a quick heart, then a smiley with its tongue poking out, then tries for a unicorn, but he can't seem to get it to look right, so he rubs it out. He is painting in come on the underside of Ryan's coffee table, and the whole thing is so ludicrous that he can't help laughing, snorfling into his armpit to muffle the noise.

Once it dries too much to play with, he scoots out from under the table, lets the dog out, and sneaks back to his room. Mission accomplished.

***

Three days later, Ryan finds the designs doodled on the underside of the table while playing with Hobo and chases Brendon around the house with the fly swatter, abusing him mercilessly. It is so worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so ashamed *hangs head*


End file.
